


Competitive

by SweetsAndTreats



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bisexual Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dueling, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre time skip, Sword Fighting, felix is really dense but what else is new, sylvain finds he likes losing better when felix is the one pinning him down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetsAndTreats/pseuds/SweetsAndTreats
Summary: Felix smirked as he pinned Sylvain to the ground, knocking the sword from his hand. A sound victory. Yet it didn’t feel that way: they were both panting heavily, and Felix imagined his face was just about as flushed as Sylvain’s. Small beads of sweat clung to his hairline and the muscles in his shoulder were already beginning to ache from being held in such an odd position for so long.This couldn’t have been comfortable for Sylvain either. Yet for some reason, he didn’t seem in any hurry to shove Felix off him. Instead he merely squirmed a bit, smiling up with half-lidded eyes.“You know what, I’ve changed my mind,” he said hazily, “I think I might like this better than going to the dining hall after all.”





	Competitive

Felix paused in the series of jabs he’d been performing on one of the practice dummies littering the grounds of the training square. He took the opportunity to wipe his brow with the back of his sleeve. It wasn’t a very proper thing to do, but this was his training garb, what did he care if it got a little dirty.

Felix stiffened, picking up on the sound of distant footfalls far down the hall. He stifled a groan: he’d recognize that gait anywhere. Erratic, yet almost annoyingly slow and lazy. The far off  _ click click click _ of boots on cobblestone rang unpleasantly in his ears.

It was like Felix could sense the lout before he saw him. As if Sylvain had this skeezy aura that followed him everywhere he went, exuding from his skin like a powerful odor.

He turned back to his sword work, pushing the pest from his mind.

Felix didn’t even bother gracing Sylvain with a glance as he entered the training square. From the corner of his eye, he watched him lean against a pillar languidly, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He could feel more than see Sylvain’s eyes boring holes into him.

It was rather distracting.

Felix continued to land blow after blow on the already shredded practice dummy, struggling to regain his focus. Rhythmically he moved through each position, paying great attention to his stance and posture. Perhaps more than was necessary. He’d only just learned the new form last week. He had _hoped_ to have it practiced enough to use in their next battle, but now that plan felt like a bust.

Felix grunted irritably. He could still feel Sylvain there, watching him. Not saying a word. Which only had him more distracted, because that was ridiculously uncharacteristic of him.

He hated being so easily sidetracked. And normally, he wasn’t, which made this situation all the more frustrating. Felix let a breath of air hiss out through his nose. He was so tempted to whirl around and demand Sylain give his reason for standing around or get out.

The temptation to turn, to acknowledge the man in any way, was brutal. He gritted his teeth. It seemed these days, Felix couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Yet another of the many, many added nuisances that came with dating Sylvain.

But he abstained.

“Hey beautiful, nice swordsmanship,” Sylvain called. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other but gave no indication of moving away from the wall.

Felix shot Sylvain an irritated look, briefly granting himself a reprieve from the repetitive swordwork. “Really, can you not go more than one single hour alone without inconveniently interrupting me?”

Sylvain had the gall to look hurt. “Aww c’mon babe, you don’t have to be so harsh,” he pouted. “Don’t you know I only bug you ‘cause I love that pretty face of yours so much?”

“Honestly, you’re impossible,” Felix retorted, turning back to his jabbing, carefully concealing his features from Sylvain. Only for the sake of his own focus, he told himself, and not because he was trying to hide the hot blush claiming his features.

“I’m busy.”

“I can see that.”

Engaging was obviously getting him nowhere.

Sealing his mouth shut, Felix dragged his eyes back towards the sword in his hand. He watched his movements, guiding his arm as if it were moving through liquid: cleanly slicing through the air as he continued his laceration of the training equipment.

He could still  _ feel _ Sylvain. How was that even possible? And yet it was like there was some intangible itch he could neither scratch nor pinpoint, digging in under his skin as fiercely as Sylvain’s stare. He sighed, letting his arms drop.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” He demanded, turning fully on Sylvain.

He held a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. “Uh, rude! C’mon, is there anything wrong with a guy standing around -  _ very quietly _ , might I add - admiring his boyfriend’s  _ excellent _ form. With the sword, I mean,” Sylvain grinned with a wink. Felix rolled his eyes.

He raised his blade suddenly, unashamedly pointing it in Sylvain’s direction as he drew towards him. “Are you capable of walking yourself out, or must I force you to leave me in peace?” Felix said irritably.

“Ooh, don’t tempt me,” Sylvain countered, the stupid smile spread across his face damn near intoxicating. Felix prayed the little flip his heart had done didn’t show on his face.

Felix shook his head but lowered his blade. Like he would have been able to get the stubborn man to do anything he didn’t want to, anyway.

“What are you?” He demanded instead, “Some sort of overgrown rabbit? Will you die if left on your own for too long?”

“Aww, see I knew you got me, babe,” Sylvain retorted, not seeming bothered by Felix’s sharp words in the slightest. He then had the nerve to bat his eyelashes, clasping his hands behind his back innocently. It was kind of adorable. Felix’s pulse began to thud loudly in his ears, unbidden.

“I have to keep practicing,” he grunted, turning sharply before Sylvain could read his expression.

He could hear Sylvain take a few hesitant steps forward. So he took several sure steps away. Sylvain made a small, displeasured noise. “C’mon Felix, don’t be like that. I just wanted to spend some time together -- maybe go down to the dining hall for a bit -- hey, are you even listening?”

He’d gone back to his rhythmic jabbing. “Yes,” Felix said simply, “I’ll join you later. Can you at least wait until I’m finished here?”

Sylvain groaned. “But your set always takes so _ long _ . Can’t you do this later?”

Felix paused, stilling his sword as he heard Sylvain approach him from behind. He couldn’t help a small grin. Sylvain thought he might sneak up on Felix: a foolish notion.

He allowed him to anyway -- he didn’t even resist when Sylvain pressed against his back, arms snaking up around his shoulders.

“But I’m impatient,” Sylvain whined just behind his left ear.

“Sylvain…”

“Mmm,” he pouted drearily, “Is it really wrong for me to wanna see you more than once in a blue moon?”

“We see each other every day.” Felix’s eyebrows knit together, a bit baffled. “Really, Sylvain, I’m not sure--”

“Oh, wait wait wait, I totally just got the best idea.” Felix could practically hear the smile in his voice.

Tucking the training sword to his side, Felix carefully turned in Sylvain’s embrace. He opened his mouth to make some sharp remark but had to close it again as butterflies began to swarm his stomach, clogging his throat.

They were so close, the tips of their boots scuffed against each other.

“And that is?” he finally managed in a small voice.

Sylvain pushed away from him suddenly, hands lingering lightly on his shoulders. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Felix raised a single eyebrow, but gave no further comment. Sylvain excitedly pressed on, “If I can beat you in a sword fight, you come with me on a dinner date. And if I can’t -- well, I’ll probably be better sparring practice than that dummy over there, don’t you think?”

Felix’s immediate instinct was to reject the idea. But...Sylvain made an irritatingly good argument. He  _ would _ make a better partner than a half-hacked up sack of straw. They’d sparred together before, many times in fact, and he’d proven himself to be more than a worthy opponent. And with a lance in hand, perhaps even an undefeatable one: although Felix would never be the one to admit it.

Although even with his thick skull, he had to know that between the two of them, Felix was obviously the better swordsman. So why Sylvain had made the tilted offer in the first place escaped him.

“Very well,” he relinquished.

“Alright!” Sylvain grinned, eyes sparkling and nearly  _ skipping _ towards the far wall to grab one of the simple iron training swords that sat against it. He was back in an instant: shifting so he was a proper distance from Felix to begin.

Felix smirked. Perhaps Sylvain hoped he would go easy on him, let him win so he could at least look like he hadn’t relented without a fight. He should know him better than that by now.

Sylvain still wore that ridiculous grin. And yet, something in his stance had noticeably changed. He set himself more firmly, eyes never leaving Felix, tracking him like a hawk. And despite his inexperience with the weapon, Sylvain had the sword positioned in such a way he left no easy openings.

So he was taking this seriously, then.

Nearly the moment Sylvain had raised his own sword however, Felix had lunged at him. He hardly had time to counter, but block he did. Their swords met between them with a pitchy  _ clang _ , that bounced sharply off the vaulted walls of the training arena. The sound made him feel excited, blood pumping through him with newfound energy.

Wasting no time, he swiftly tried for a side-swipe, but Sylvain managed to block that as well. Felix grinned. Sylvain wasn’t going to make this easy. Wonderful.

Alright, fine. Admittedly, this was much better than training against a straw dummy.

As they wove and slashed around one another, they fell into a sort of dance: Felix would lunge and strike and jab, and Sylvain would block or parry nimbly. He was honestly surprised how long the round was lasting: normally, Felix had his opponent beat in only a handful of minutes during practices.

But today, time seemed to drag. Yet Sylvain’s determination didn’t falter. He jumped forward, aiming for a strike that Felix very barely dodged and bringing him closer to defeat than he’d like to admit. Sylvain’s face flashed in surprise: apparently he hadn’t expected Felix to be so quick on his feet.

Trying not to get caught up in the details, Felix used Sylvain’s small moment of uncertainty to take him off guard: lowering his sword and tackling him to the ground.

Felix fell atop him before he had time to process what was happening, pinning Sylvain’s legs down with his knees and pressing his wrists roughly to the ground. The movement was enough to knock the sword from Sylvain’s hand, and it clattered hollowly as it skid away across the cobblestone.

Felix smirked. A sound victory.

Yet it didn’t feel that way: they were both panting heavily, and Felix imagined his face was just about as flushed as Sylvain’s. Small beads of sweat clung to his hairline and the muscles in his shoulder were already beginning to ache from being held in such an odd position for so long.

This couldn’t have been comfortable for Sylvain either. Yet for some reason, he didn’t seem in any hurry to shove Felix off him. Instead, he merely squirmed a bit, smiling up with half-lidded eyes.

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind,” he said hazily, “I think I might like this better than going to the dining hall after all.” Sylvain winked, shooting Felix one of the dazzling smiles he reserved for flirting with girls. Or for trying to charm Felix, as would be the case lately.

Felix pulled away in an instant, praying to the goddess Sylvain hadn’t had the time to register his expression. His heart ran circles in his chest, and now his cheeks were flushed pink for an entirely different reason.

“Aw, gone so soon?” Sylvain protested as he shakily pulled himself to his feet, “And I had such a good view.”

“Ready to go again?” Felix tried really,  _ really _ hard not to let his voice crack, failing miserably. He cleared his throat: not before hearing a small snicker from Sylvain.

When he turned again, Sylvain had collected his sword from the ground. He held it out, poised and ready. But something had changed. His posture was much looser, and his eyes didn’t glint quite as sharply as before. Maybe he’d finally begun to tire. Admittedly, even Felix was a bit drained from how long their last round had lasted.

Shrugging it off, Felix was the first to initiate again.

This time, he nearly had Sylvain beat right off the bat with a well-placed lunge. Somehow he’d managed to evade the blow, but only barely. The maneuver was sloppy, as was his following jab. Not just that: all Sylvain’s attempted blows were shallower and his follow-throughs not quite so determined as they had been.

Was their training session exhausting him so much already? Felix certainly hoped Sylvain didn’t tire this easy on the battlefield: losing one’s drive in combat was dangerous. The thought made him just a bit queasy, actually.

Then again, it was comforting to know that he no longer ran the risk of being dragged off to the dining hall.

This time, Felix managed to knock the sword from Sylvain’s hand just before he jumped at him, using his full weight to pin the boy firmly against a pillar. He pressed his sword hand against Sylvain’s collarbone, propping the other against the pillar above Sylvain’s shoulder.

Another total victory. Although, what else was to be expected.

Sylvain didn’t seem as disappointed as he should have been though. His face was nearly as red as his hair, and a small, coy smile gently parted his lips. Yet his eyes glinted mischievously. Tightly pressed against Sylvain as he was, he felt a small shiver run through his partner as Felix dropped the sword to the ground with a sharp  _ twang _ .

“Well, guess round two goes to you,” Sylvain mumbled a bit breathlessly. Felix trailed the line of his throat as he swallowed thickly. The red from his face had slowly crept down his neck, which was now an alarming shade of crimson.

“Why do I feel like you let me win,” Felix’s eyes snapped to Sylvain’s coldly.

He shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

Felix drew back, slower this time, but still unwilling to meet the almost dark look in Sylvain’s gaze.

“Want to go again?”

“Obviously,” Sylvain pushed off of the pillar, following Felix across the floor of the training square. “We made a deal, didn’t we?”

“Indeed,” he said simply. Felix clenched his jaw, mentally willing the tittering spiral of his heart to still. Once he had (mostly) managed to calm himself down, he turned back to Sylvain: widening his stance and raising his blade.

They kept sparring.

And Felix kept winning.

Which in and of itself wasn’t wholly strange -- Felix was, in his opinion anyway, one of the best swordsmen in the Kingdom. But then, so was Sylvain, if he was being honest with himself. So the fact Felix continued to so easily disarm and corner the boy, time after time, was puzzling.

Sylvain kept making all these obvious mistakes: each offering perfect openings for Felix to claim victory. Opening his guard, telling with his eyes where he intended to strike...one time he even dropped his sword on accident.

So Felix was unsurprised when Sylvain stumbled backward, tripping over his own boots when he’d tried to back away too swiftly.

But instead of dropping to the ground and taking the loss, Sylvain’s hand shot out suddenly, fingers grabbing a fistful of his shirt and taking Felix down with him. Luckily, he’d had enough sense to toss his sword aside before landing messily on Sylvain.

He scrambled to push himself up to half-sitting, steadying his hands on either side of Sylvain’s head. Felix gawked down at the other, somewhere between shocked and offended.

Sylvain looked a mess: his hair was sticking out at odder angles than usual. Strands of it were plastered to his forehead and cheeks, and the color of his face rivaled that of his hair. There was a bit of dirt smudged along the bridge of his nose as well. When he gazed up at Felix, his eyes were glossy and unfocused.

“Hey baby I have a better idea. Why don’t we just stay like this all day instead?” He smiled lazily.

Felix rolled his eyes, carefully ignoring the flutter in his stomach. He leaned back to sit atop Sylvain’s legs just above his knees. Sylvain propped himself up on his elbows, eyes glued to Felix and wide grin still in place. His hair looked like a rat’s nest.

Felix sighed. He knew, better than he should, how much the silly boy cared about his hair.

He reached forward and gently began to comb through the messy red locks with his fingers, careful to never tug too hard nor pull too much when he met resistance. Sylvain hummed happily as he worked, eyes sliding closed.

He tried his best to smooth it out the way he normally wore it, but Felix was afraid he wasn’t quite as good at it as Sylvain was.

“Thanks, babe,” he mumbled as Felix finally pulled his hands away.

Felix couldn’t help the small, pleasant noise he made at the back of his throat. “Maybe it wouldn’t get so messy if your form was better,” he teased.

“Maybe you could show me,” Sylvain gazed at him through one eye.

“You just need more practice,” Felix said resolutely, his ears feeling hot as he pulled himself off Sylvain and back to his feet. He extended a hand, which Sylvain eventually took with a small pout.

“Come on then. Let’s go again.”

Sylvain continued to watch him glumly but didn’t complain as he went to retrieve his sword.

About a half-minute in, Sylvain had nearly tripped on his own feet again: this time definitely by mistake.

Felix chuckled. “I thought you were better at this, Sylvain.” He parried another half-assed strike. “Oh well. I suppose it was foolish of me to think you might pose more of a threat than the training dummy.”

“Today’s just an off day,” Sylvain said a bit too happily.

“I guess you won’t be getting your dinner date after all, then. Such a shame.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Sylvain said impishly. Felix narrowed his eyes, watching him with a measure of suspicion. But he merely slowed, dropping his sword arm to his side.

He smirked: maybe Sylvain had finally seen reason and was giving in. Something sharp and gnarled twisted in Felix’s gut suddenly at the thought of Sylvain leaving. Which didn’t make any sense. The whole reason he’d agreed to this silly bet in the first place was so he’d finally leave be left alone, wasn’t it?

It had been his own mistake for getting caught up in his own thoughts in the middle of a duel.

In a matter of seconds, Sylvain had dashed forward, feinting to his left and easily entering his personal space before Felix had time to register what was happening. He managed to catch the wicked grin on Sylvain’s face, like a cat who’d just caught its dinner, before he pressed forward and kissed Felix fully on the lips.

Felix startled, freezing on the spot. His sword rattled against the ground mutely as his fingers numbly loosened their grip around its hilt.

Not a moment later, did he feel the slight sting of the tip of Sylvain’s sword against his chest and the cold absence of a warm body against him. All he could do was gape, stunned.

“I win,” Sylvain said smugly. “Aw, Felix, the look on your face is absolutely adorable. Didn’t think you’d lose to me, eh?”

Felix flushed, carefully hardening his expression. “Hardly.” His voice sounded steadier than he felt.

Sylvain’s smile broadened. “Now, remind me again babe, but whose sword is poking into whose chest?”

Felix was impressed with how level he managed to keep his expression, for how violently his insides were churning. “You cheated,” he said cooly.

Sylvain shrugged, finally lowering his blade. “Alright, I’ll give you that. It  _ was _ a bit below the belt.” He sidled closer, until their faces were mere inches apart, “ -- but you should know, that is where I do all my best work,” he added with a wink.

Felix’s face felt so hot against his cheeks, he was sure he’d turned an absolutely embarrassing shade of red. His jaw went slack, mouth parting open, as he was rendered completely speechless.

He must have looked quite ridiculous, as Sylvain’s shoulders shook with hardly contained laughter. Far too easily, Sylvain broke away, patting Felix lightly on the shoulder as he strode past him to retrieve his fallen sword.

His legs wouldn’t work, no matter how fervently he willed them to. Felix swallowed thickly, managing to snap his mouth shut. Damn redhead.

“You sure you don’t wanna just call it a day?” he teased. “You’re looking a little...flushed.” Sylvain appeared suddenly beside his left shoulder, pecking Felix lightly on the cheek before disappearing again.

“E-enough,” Felix bit out, finally regaining enough feeling in his limbs to whirl on Sylvain. His face was still the picture of smugness. “I am seriously going to kick your ass this time,” he threatened, nearly snarling as he stomped towards Sylvain.

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” Sylvain said sweetly, offering him the sword.

Felix snatched it quickly, eyes never leaving Sylvain as he made his way back down the training square a suitable distance. Honestly, the man was insatiable.

Huffing a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, willing the heat in his face to fade. When that didn’t work: he settled for glaring ruefully at Sylvain, but that only seemed to make the bastard smile wider.

Alright, enough, he was going to show this overgrown child his place.

Felix’s first instinct was to thoughtlessly charge forward again. Sylvain’s guard had been absolutely awful today, and a similar strategy had been working for him insofar. But as he surveyed his opponent, Felix immediately noticed something had changed. Sylvain stood sturdier, eyes focused and shoulders squared in such a way Felix knew he wouldn’t be getting any more easy victories.

He smirked. About time the lout got serious.

After another beat of silence, he lunged, attempting to feint towards Sylvain’s left. He far too easily parried the blow and Felix was forced to back up a ways, narrowly avoiding a strike that would have been the end for him. He grunted, biting his lower lip. This was no time for him to be getting sloppy.

“Glad to see you finally giving it your all,” Felix grit out.

“Oh, I always give you my everything, darling,” Sylvain purred.

Felix felt his stance soften. His elbows and knees suddenly felt like they were filled with pudding. He shook his head, trying to dispel the incessant butterflies filling his stomach. “Don’t you dare play dirty again,” he warned.

“What,” Sylvain blinked up at him innocently, “Was it something I said?”

Nearly the second he’d finished speaking, Sylvain surged forward suddenly, taking Felix by surprise. He tried to block, but Sylvain easily slid out of the way: knocking the sword out of Felix’s hand with the butt of his. Just as swiftly, Felix felt Sylvain’s forearm dig into his chest, driving him up against the far wall. It all happened so fast, he felt rather lightheaded.

“But then again, what if dirty is the only way I know how to play?” Sylvain smirked, tossing his sword to the side. Felix had always been a bit on the short side but pressed down against a wall like this, Sylvain towered a good third of a foot above him.

Felix was suddenly hyper-aware of how firmly Sylvain was pressed against him. His skin buzzed and sparked at each point of contact through the rough fabric of their uniforms. He fidgeted restlessly.

Despite this, Sylvain didn’t budge. Instead, he squared his shoulders, one hand reaching forward to settle against the wall beside Felix’s head: caging him in and leaving no room to wriggle free.

“I suppose this means I”m done training for the day,” Felix managed to say, his voice dribbling thick as honey from his slightly parted lips.

“Nah,” Sylvain replied lowly, “Changed my mind. Besides, I don’t think  _ I’m _ quite finished here yet.”

His free hand moved to gently brush against Felix’s cheek, capturing a strand of hair there and pinching the dark blue between his fingers. Carefully, he pushed it back behind his ear. Sylvain’s hand hovered there, long fingers running softly along Felix’s head.

“Sylvain…” Felix’s voice was caught between a threat and a plea.

“C’mon, let’s stop with the sword foreplay already.”

“I knew you weren’t actually taking this seriously,” Felix huffed, but his voice sounded small in his ears.

“Now you’re just being unfair. Like I told you before.” His eyes fluttered shut as Sylvain pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I always give you my all.” Felix stared at him with glazed eyes, softly searching his face.

He managed to wiggle a hand free, gently cupping Sylvain’s cheek, his thumb drifting lazily along the line of his jaw. His face was still flushed and warm to the touch from the exercise, and both of them shone with sweat. But for some reason, Felix found he rather liked the sight of Sylvain like this.

It moved something deep in his gut, something primal.

“Idiot,” Felix murmured breathlessly, leaning forward and capturing Sylvain’s lips in a proper kiss. They were soft, and familiar, and salty, and wonderful. Instantly he felt himself unwind, falling completely at ease in Sylvain’s arms.

His lips moved sweetly against Felix’s with hardly suppressed eagerness, as if kissing him were some much-needed release. As if he’d been waiting for this all day, which, he probably had. Felix was fairly certain this had been his aim the entire time.

Now Felix didn’t deny he was proud and oftentimes a touch stubborn: but even he knew when to concede inferiority. And kissing Sylvain was one of those times.

Even now, after they’d been together quite a while, it was impossible to ignore how incredible Sylvain was at this. Affection, especially to this degree, had never been Felix’s forte. But Sylvain somehow managed to compensate for both of them, and then some.

It was like he knew exactly how to move without Felix ever needing to tell him. Where to put pressure, when to gently graze teeth along the line of his lips, how to gently scrape against Felix’s scalp at just the right moments so that it felt euphoric.

The arm pinning Felix’s chest disappeared suddenly, only to reappear at the hand hanging loosely from his side. Sylvain nudged the back of it gently with his knuckles until Felix relented, turning his palm up. With a small sigh, he took Sylvain’s hand tightly, weaving their fingers together.

He pressed himself firmer against Felix, rolling his hips forward so that they pinned him to the wall in the absence of the pressure at his collarbone. The heat, the friction generated from the action sent sparks up Felix’s spine. A small, needy whine parted his lips as his vision went hazy.

Felix’s face immediately flushed a bright crimson at the shamefully meek noise. He had hardly even recognized the sound as his own voice. But he was only met with a long, low chuckle from Sylvain: the vibrations cracking and rumbling against his own chest. Felix grunted, his lips stilling momentarily, but not pulling away entirely.

Sylvain grinned, drawing back half an inch. “Don’t worry, love, there’s no one here but us. Just you and me. Just us,” he repeated quietly, pressing another light kiss against Felix’s open mouth.

Felix felt another embarrassingly needy whimper escape his throat as Sylvain pulled apart again, only to reappear against his cheek a moment later. He trailed down the curve of Felix’s face, pressing small, lazy kisses along Felix’s jaw and slowly moving down the pulse line of his neck. The hand in his hair drifted down, curving around the base of his skull and tilting his head back, giving Sylvain better access to the soft area under his jaw.

Eyes pressed firmly shut, Felix moaned lowly as Sylvain’s teeth gently nipped at the exposed skin of his neck. He alternated expertly: biting and kissing and softly sucking until Felix’s mind was so hazy he could barely register the noises he was making enough to be embarrassed by them.

Felix shivered as he felt the tip of Sylvain’s tongue drag shallowly against his neck, drawing a line down until his lips were wrapped around his collarbone. The dull blunt of his teeth grazed the skin, playful biting or sucking in all the right spots: the ones that made Felix shiver and writhe against him.

Felix gasped suddenly as Sylvain bit down harder, his hands shooting up to wind themselves desperately in that pretty red hair. Fingers bending and weaving and desperately struggling to pull him closer.

He moaned again, this time the sound nearly taking on the shape of Sylvain’s name. He shuddered as Sylvain caught his wrists easily, meeting no resistance as he pinned them above Felix’s head with a dull  _ smack _ against the aged stone. He took his lower lip in his teeth sharply, cutting off another high whine.

“After you went through all the trouble of fixing my hair for me,” Sylvain ground out, somehow still capable of forming coherent sentences. “Wouldn’t wanna mess it up again.”

Felix shuddered as he pressed another kiss against his neck, right at his pulse point. Sylvain’s name crossed his lips in a whisper. Sylvain chuckled quietly, the sound rattling against his chest as he continued to decorate it with pretty little red marks. As if labeling him, declaring Felix as his and his alone to the whole monastery. He gasped in a sharp hiss of breath, the thought chasing any remaining semblance of clarity from his mind.

Sylvain was the only person who had ever been able to tear Felix down to such a state, to break him and control him so completely. And it was quite possibly the only time Felix had ever been so blissfully happy to let anyone else do so.

“Sylvain,” he moaned again, breath hot against his face.

“I’m here for you, I’ll take care of you darling.” Sylvain pressed another long, slow kiss to his lips. Felix was so far gone, he hardly registered the pathetic mewling noise he made, his fingers digging into the flesh of his palms above his head.

He needed Sylvain. Needed him on him and around him and in him, right now, right here, he needed--

“Oh! There you are, Sylvain. Have you seen Felix around? He’s not...”

Felix’s eyes snapped open, everything shooting into focus as cold dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as his ears locked onto the sound of the boar’s voice.

Sylvain, far too hesitantly, pulled back just enough to angle his gaze towards Dimitri, who was standing awkwardly in the entryway. Felix had never wanted to turn tail and flee so much in all his life. But Sylvain held his body firm against him, the grip on his wrists tightening so that even as Felix struggled to break free, he couldn’t move an inch. 

Recognizing there was no use in fighting it, Felix slumped in defeat.

“A-ah, um, t-there you are Felix. Sorry, I...seem to have walked in on--well,” Dimitri floundered, his cheeks having the nerve to light up a deeper shade of crimson than Felix’s felt. “I suppose I will just leave you two, er, to it then.”

Felix frantically tried to pull his arms free, desperate to comb through the tangle of his hair or swipe away the bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth,  _ anything _ . But Sylvain wouldn’t let up.

“No worries, your highness,” Sylvain said brightly, his cheery tone obnoxiously unaffected by the situation. “We were just doing a bit of training before heading down to the dining hall to grab something to eat. Actually, we’re just finishing up here, if you’d like to join us.”

“E-er...no. Thank you, for the offer,” Dimitri gritted out, “But I think I’ll pass this time.”

_ Thank the goddess _ .

“You sure, highness?” Sylvain pressed innocently, “Didn’t you just need Felix for something?”

Felix flushed angrily, kicking him lightly in the shin. Sylvain didn’t even flinch, ignoring him entirely.

“No,” Dimitri said forcefully. “I mean, no no, that is quite alright. I’ll just talk to him another time when he is not quite so...preoccupied.” Dimitri averted his gaze as Felix turned to glare at him. The prince’s face was so red now it was almost purple. “I...I’ll just go. Right now.”

Not even in battle had Felix seen the prince move with such haste.

“See you in class!” Sylvain called gleefully after him, finally pulling away and releasing Felix. He fell forward with a gasp of breath, Sylvain catching him easily and steadying his limp body.

“That was awful,” Felix straightened, rubbing at his wrists and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“Aw, c’mon now, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Try mortifying. Goddess, I won’t be able to look the brute in the eye for weeks.”

“I think his highness liked seeing you all pinned up and flustered like that,” Sylvain smiled smugly, leaning in until his breath pressed hot against Felix’s cheeks, “I know I certainly did.”

“I could tell.” For some wildly unknown reason, Felix was tempted to kiss Sylvain again. It was almost as if he knew, too, what was on Felix’s mind as his smirk widened. Worrying his lower lip, he restrained himself. Anyways, look where such reckless behavior had landed them last time.

Although for some reason, Felix found he didn’t quite care as much about getting caught as he should.

“Well,” he continued, gaze shifting down, “I suppose it was worth it to see that ridiculous look on the boar’s face. Honestly, I was worried he might keel over any moment from lack of oxygen to that thick skull of his.” That earned a small laugh from Sylvain and Felix smiled softly.

“Very true. Isn’t every day you get to see the future king of Faerghus at such a loss for words,” he chuckled, “Who knew his highness was such a prude?”

“I don’t think Dimitri was the problem in that situation,” Felix bit out sharply. Unable to stomach the smug look on Sylvain’s face a moment longer, he pushed away, turning to collect their discarded training equipment.

“I’m honestly surprised he got all the way down the hall before figuring out what we were up to, with some of the noises you were making.”

Felix leveled a glare on him, raising the sword he'd just plucked from the ground menacingly.

“Alright, alright, jeez no need to look so mad. Lower that thing before you put someone’s eye out,” Sylvain laughed.

“Maybe that was my intention,” Felix muttered, but he slowly lowered the sword.

“Anyway," Sylvain began, "we going to the dining hall or what? I’d say I’ve more than earned my victory.” He could hear the shit-eating grin boring into the back of his head better than he could see it.

“Yes,” Felix managed to say, only sounding a bit breathless. “You have. Besides: I don’t think I have the mental capacity to focus on swordwork anymore.”

“You say that as if you didn’t like what we were doing instead.” Sylvain smiled impishly.

“I would’ve preferred to continue my set at least another hour or two, but I fear that’s hopeless now, thanks to you.”

“That wasn’t the tune you were singing a few minutes ago,” Sylvain said cheekily, appearing suddenly beside Felix and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Although - if we went somewhere a bit more private, I’d have no trouble continuing our little sword fight,” he purred in Felix’s ear.

Face burning, Felix opened and closed his mouth several times, like a beached fish. At first, when he tried to speak nothing came out but hot air. “Sylvain, you’re insatiable,” he finally settled on.

“Alright, alright,” Sylvain grinned, holding up his hands in mock-defense, “Guess I’ll take what I can get. So whaddya say, still on for dinner?”

Felix groaned. “Fine. But I’ll need a moment to run back to my room and change.” He had only needed to quickly glimpse down at the area around his collarbone to find it littered with small, red and purple marks. He expected the rest of his neck must look much the same.

“I’ll be wearing furs for at least a week,” he complained.

Sylvain clicked his tongue. “And what a shame that will be. Really, you look so good in red.”

Face heating painfully again, Felix grabbed Sylvain tightly by the arm, wrenching him along as he stalked towards the entryway. “Let’s go, before I change my mind.”

“Yes sir,” Sylvain chirped happily from behind him, seeming perfectly content to let his boyfriend drag him down the hall.

What a frustrating man. Still, Felix couldn’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Blue Lions House = a bunch of really dense/confused teenagers, and Sylvain is living for it. 
> 
> I'm so glad I finally got a Sylvelix out, I kept jumping between fics and none of them ever got finished rip. Fingers crossed I get around to more of them. As always thanks for reading!


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